Many a Low Resort
by Starski
Summary: There are many stories from the junkyard that you may not know - relationships are far more complicated than they may seem and now it is time to scratch beyond the surface.
1. Prologue

A Cats the Musical Fanficiton by Starski. ©

Cats the Musical © Andrew Lloyd Webber & T.S Elliot.

**Many a Low Resort.**

**Prologue. **

It had been 11 months since Demeter had joined the Jellicle Tribe, and the junkyard had quickly become her utopia. She could remember the day she'd arrived here as if it were yesterday, every little detail still crisp in her mind, every thought that had ran through her brain that day was still there in her head, hidden in a nook at the furthermost region of her mind. It had been the longest day in her lifetime, she recalled, and rain had painted the sky an obnoxious shade of monotonous grey and slated the ground with the distorted reflections of many faces that at the time were new and unrecognisable; now they were the façades of her family. She had never felt so surrounded by warmth, love and hope. The golden queen had never before known such friendliness and sweetness, and to be shown it with such readiness – well, it had touched her heart in an instant and she had never since been the same cat.

She was alone now. The moon was bright in the sky and the stars glittered in faint comparison. Head bowed in prayer, her eyes half-closed in a moment of reflection and mouth opened in a cry of bliss, Demeter took the time she had with the night's sky to send thoughts and hopes and wishes to those she _knew_ would listen: "Heavyside," she whispered softly, lips chapped and dry as the words rolled off her tongue with a raspy echo, a plea for solidarity. Her mouth opened again, jaw agape as if willing the words that were on her mind to tumble out, though no sound came. The queen sighed gently, curling up her paws beneath her and just hoping that the heavens could see into her mind and draw forth the thoughts that lay there in torment, trusting her ancestors to make some sense out of the muddled state of her mind. Finally after deciding she had sat dormant long enough she pulled herself to her paws and leant her weight forwards, limbs stretching out as her spine rippled upwards in a typical feline stretch that caused her fur to part in raised interrupted tufts of white and black along her back. "Goodnight, Everlasting Cat." She spoke gently after standing fully upright, gaze glassy yet tender as can be as she surveyed the stars she could practically name one by one. Demeter stood, turned, and ran swiftly along the tin surface of the rusting refrigerator hidden away at the back of the junkyard, the peak of the highest pile of debris. As carefully as she could she picked her way down the huge tower of scrap metal, her paws scraping iron and steel and wire as she finally reached the trodden down path of aluminium cans that paved the way to the main centre of the junkyard where every year, for one night only, the Jellicle Ball would take place.

It was on that fateful evening last year that the golden girl and her sister had arrived here.

Snapping her attention back to the present Demeter spotted the faint silhouette of a cat sat on the car bonnet, backlit so only the fluffy outlines of their ears were visible against the multitude of washed out objects that the night had stolen colour from. However the female knew this time that the darkness had not changed the shade of this Cat's pelt – the barely visible stripes along large, angular ears told her that this was Munkustrap keeping watch over the tribe he protected so diligently. He often did that. He'd sit and talk to the stars as if they were sentinels, and she would be seated with him. They would chatter together, they would mutter to the heavens and every once in a while the heavens would answer back.

Tonight, Demeter decided, would be one of those nights.

"Munkustrap," she purred gently, approaching him from behind and letting her tail fall to the side to rest against his back as she passed him to sit beside his right flank, paws tucked neatly underneath her. The grey tom flicked an ear to acknowledge that he heard her, though his eyes were closed tight, unable to see. Where some cats may have found this rude, Demeter found it entrancing: she knew him well enough to understand that he would never dismiss her in such a way unless he was lost in thought, important thought. There was silence for a few minutes, but her wait did not last long; "Deme, it's late. Why are you up?"

His voice was gentle enough to cause her to smile but the content was laughable enough to cause that smile to be broken by a quiet giggle. "I didn't know I'd been given a curfew." She chuckled gently, voice husky and words only just audible as the she-cat brought up a paw to brush past her white whiskers as Munkustrap turned his dark head to watch her, his body still motionless. The cool way he regarded her made the female come to her senses, and quietly she fell still too. She already knew he had interpreted her teasing remark as a comment of derision, so she made haste to fill the silence. "I was craving some alone time so I took a walk – am I disturbing you?"

"No."

A pause, followed by the face of the tom creasing with previously concealed delight.

"I quite enjoy your company, Demeter."

This elicited another grin from the lustrous feline who edged closer to him with a small titter. "I know."

They grew closer and closer until their shoulders were touching, and ever so softly Munkustrap began to hum a gentle tune into her ear as he ran his raspy tongue over the very soft fur that lay flat just behind them. The night had not gone how Demeter had planned – they were not talking to the stars, they were barely even talking to one another! They were content and lost in the quiet that their fellowship brought and all at once that sense of inner peace she had felt when praying came rushing back, and she was happy.

"Munk-"

"Shh."

"Munku!" Demeter pulled away slowly, eyes wide with joy and sadness – a fusion of two juxtaposed emotions. "I better go, don't want Bomba worrying about me: you know how she can be." With a flick of the tip of her tail and a howl of the wind, she began to pivot away after receiving a crestfallen nod from her friend, who seemed to understand even if he didn't wish to. "Goodnight Demeter."

"G'night!" she called over her shoulder, though most of the sound was swept away by the breeze that was increasing in strength every second. It was not long until she was inside the den she shared with her sister being bombarded with grumpy, lethargically voiced questions about where she had been and who she'd been with and why in heavyside's name she had thought it okay to barge in at this hour and disturb Bombalurina's always important beauty sleep. With a sigh she answered that she had just been alone, and after a series of disapproving scoffs from her sibling Demeter was finally given the chance to fall asleep without the well-meant abuse from her sister falling upon uncaring ears. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and slipped away into slumber.

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Okay, this is just a very short prologue to a story I may or may not be continuing. I started work on it last summer and decided to fix up some plot holes and actually try and make something creative out of it: I hope you enjoy it! Constructive Criticism and Reviews of all kinds are very welcome. (:


	2. Chapter 1: A Youthful Contemplation

**Chapter 1.**

"Demeter, Deme!"

The call seemed distant enough at first, but the high-pitched mewling of the kitten began to ring again and again in her ears, the sound amplified each time until it echoed with enough volume to force her eyes open as if held there by invisible claws. Carbucketty's big brown eyes were the first thing she saw, then a set of blotchy grey forepaws beneath them, and finally his whole body was no longer distorted and could been seen clearly by polished green, sleep deprived eyes. Demeter's jaw parted in a great yawn, fangs flared in such a way that the kitten took a step back in fright, eyes widened before she spoke, laughter in her tone: "Yes, Carby?" It was only then that Bill Bailey raised his patched head from behind his brother, looking equally as dazed as the tom-kit who had dared to wake the sleeping queen. His regard flickered from the back of the lair that was hollowed out of the great pile of scrap metal just opposite the broken oven. Demeter guessed that the reason he was now gawking was that her sister, who had fallen asleep behind her and just out of her line of sight, had woken – and was not looking as if she were in the best of moods.

"J-J-Jenny was wondering if you could come and see her. Okay, bye!" Bill Baily squeaked, quite obviously in a hurry, and scampered out of the den before Bombalurina could lay a paw on him. Carbucketty swiftly followed, away from his twin's heels by the length of a tail. The 'scarlet harlot' (a nickname Bombalurina had earned via reputation, devised by street toms that Demeter remembered with an emotion far _less_ than fondness) hissed "Kittens," with a roll of her eyes before placing her tail over nearly curled paws and blinking the sleep from her eyes as her sister began to stir more violently at her paws in what seemed like an attempt to get up. Silently the queen reached down, her teeth making contact with the soft flesh on the back of her sweet sibling's neck and tugging gently as if picking up a naughty kit by the scruff. The gesture was gentle, but enough to sweep the she-cat to stand nimbly on her toes with a shake of her pelt.

"Thank you." Deme smiled softly, purring into her sisters ear with a step forwards and an affectionate nuzzle. "I should probably go and see why Jenny got the kittens to pester us."

"Pester is a good word to describe it, pesky little . . ." Bombalurina trailed off, pouting at her with enough expression to imply that she was only slightly serious, though it still earned her a clip over the ear as the bibbed cat quickly loped out of the den – her last sight was the red woman running a damp paw over the fur that Demeter had knocked out of place with her scolding cuff.

The junkyard was certainly more alive now than it had been for the past week or so. Winter had long since passed and Spring was making it's stamp on the world, causing the house-cats of the tribe to shelter inside during the midday, early-may heat that caused sweat to stain their silky coats: no cat liked to dance when damp. However, today's wind had a surprisingly bitter chill, and this change in the weather appeared to have called many a cat out of hiding; Alonzo trotted by, tail and head raised, on a mission of some sort. Demeter called to him and recived a smile in reply, but nothing more, so she just continued on her walk out into the open where small gaggles of conversing kittens lay in wait, Tugger and Cassandra bathed together in shallow chit-chat, and Jellylorum watched over Victor and George as they tried to outdo one another's steps in a flurry of clawless paws.

Finally her paw-pads felt the refreshing feeling of steel and she mewled with delight at the fresh scent that seemed to always follow the Gumbie Cat wherever she went. The metal underneath her paws began to slope as she paced forwards, and agilely the feline jumped down to land on all fours beside a small crack that marked the enterance into the interior of the hollow-out car bonnet Jenny called 'home'. Once inside, Demeter was greeted by a fairly round, ginger-striped posterior swaying to the beat of an old folk song being hummed by the whiskered soprano herself – she hadn't noticed the arrival of her guest, so the golden girl thought it wise to clear her throat – an awkward announcement of her arrival.

"Demeter! Just who I wished to see," Jenny whipped round, tail bushed up, startled, but perfectly welcoming. Demeter purred and smiled, taking a step forward to sit on a well-placed velvet cushion near to the tabby. Inbetween humming her melody, the older female continued. "I was wondering, well, since this is your first ball as an official Jellicle, if you would like to perhaps perform?"

Her jaw fell agape, unable to respond out of confusion and terror: "But Jenny – I'm so yo-"

"Yes, I'm aware that you are young, Deme." She cooed softly, smiling with enough sympathy to cause Demeter to sit back and relax a little, rolling her shoulders under her skin. "However, the opportunity to see the Heavyside layer is an honour, and one I wish to offer to all those who I deem to deserve it. It was only an invitation, accept it if you wish." And with that, she was done. A swish of her plump tail dismissed Demeter, who knew well enough that the conversation was over and not worth pursuing any further. She quickly fled the scene, still in awe of the chance she had been offered, though anxious that her faith, now challenged, was beginning to falter. Life seemed to hold so many opportunities and since she was a cat in her prime the idea of passing up on one of her nine lives so early into its progress was almost sacrilege – this she would never admit.

She let her paws carry her along the littered ground, slipping through a small crevice of built up tin cans and out into the open space where the ball was held. The floor was smooth here, an old wooden stage of a travelling circus with beautiful illustrations ornately covering the entire surface. It was indeed, the perfect place for a celebration. Quietly Demeter turned her head from left to right, ears twitching lazily as she tried to empty her mind of the last conversation she had had – she would dwell on the joy of the present, and think about such serious matters later. She settled herself down on a tire and let the sun warm her muscles for a moment, enjoying the blissful quiet which was soon interrupted by Admetus' entrance into the junkyard.

"Admetus, Hi!" She called softly, rolling onto her back and letting her mottled head hand down off the ledge, viewing the world upside-down and snorting to herself at the bemused expression the tom showed in reaction. He began to stride over, and Demeter found herself taking the time to soak in his features: he was younger than her, and some structures of kitten hood still clung to his body – the extra fluff along the back of his legs and chest, his wide eyes and his ears that looked only slightly too large for his head. Irrespective of all this, he was certainly a fine tom. The way his brown-patched fur clung to the muscles on his shoulder and faded into white, the angular jawline and sharp teeth that she now realised, was carrying food. In the amount of minutes Demeter had spent admiring him, he had already made his way up to her and placed a mouse near her flank, another at his own paws.

"Hello, Deme. How are you today?" he asked softly, watching her as she rolled onto her side and pushed herself to sit in the same manner.

"I'm alright, thank you – is this for me?"

"It is now," he chuckled. "It was originally for Aspen – you know, the pregnant queen who came a few months ago?"

"Ah, yes." Demeter smiled, looking down at the rodent at her paws and sighing inwardly. "Are you sure she won't want it? She's due any day now, and I know if I were her I'd be grateful for any food I could get my claws into." Her whiskers twitched, a laugh of sorts. Admetus smiled and shrugged in response, reaching out a bent paw to push it forwards towards the queen.

"Eat it. I'll get Aspen some more when the wind calms down. It's such a shame the father just left her here, isn't it?" the question was rhetorical but provoked a nod of the girl's dark head anyway. The tom dipped his head, picked up his mouse and took his leave, heading off towards the pipe that lead deeper into the tip's hidden caverns, where Demeter assumed the mother-to-be was hiding. She remembered Aspen to be nothing more than a kit herself, yet already expecting a litter of her own – the thought made Demeter's stomach stir. Here she was, a young adult, not wanting to grow up too fast, when there was a poor unfortunate soul about to have another few mouths to feed.

She couldn't help but feel slightly disgusted with herself.

Slipping off her rubber perch with a belly full of prey she began to meander aimlessly once more, making a beeline for a rather appealing sunny patch, when Jellylorum sprinted straight into her side, panic stricken and out of breath.

"Oh goodness, sorry my pet – excuse me!" the pale, wrinkled tabby spoke quickly, bundling something decidedly odd looking that she had dropped into a neat pile. Demeter tilted her head, wondering why she was in such a hurry.

"What's happened?" Her face creased with concern;

"Aspen has gone into labour!" she mewled speedily, words muffled through a mouthful of ripped cloth. "No time to loose!" and she was gone, hardly giving Demeter any time to think about what she had just heard.

All she knew was that within a few hours, new life would be brought into the world.

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Hey all! Thank you for reading and reviewing, I really appreciate it and have really enjoyed reading the reviews so far - if you have any questions, feel free to ask! I was considering making a Q & A Blog for this story where you could get exclusive plot hints, graphics and information - would you like that?

Also, just a note: this is set around the time of the ball before the one seen in the musical. (:

Aspen is my character, others are not!


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